Lost
by coconut994777
Summary: While in the Houses of Healing, Frodo finally sees himself in the mirror. Rated T for angsty, depressed, and sad hobbits. One-shot, ShireBunny F37.


**A/N: Hi all! I thought I would adopt a cute fluffy little plot bunny for the entertainment of others. This was going to be a bit fluffier, but I decided to make it more angsty in anniversary of Frodo's priceless crying-face after Gandalf died in Moria. (Which, date-wise, would've been two days ago)**

**Response to Zorra Reed's review: Dear Zorra, thank you for checking out this fic! I do try hard to get the angst level high ^_^ But, anyway, the reason why I'm updating this fic with a response to your comment, is because you didn't leave an email address so I can respond directly to you. This is a work of fanfiction (hence the site name ), these are characters already developed by another author, being Tolkien, which is why part of your review is mislead. If you read a fanfiction for something and don't know the original work, that can take away part of the element of the fanfiction. Also, this is a ONE-SHOT, it's just a quick ficlet that I adopted from an idea on shirebound's website, so more chapters are unlikely. Possible, but unlikely. Thank you for pointing out, however, that I do not "fill" out my stories. I need to work on getting more description packed in, and that's why I love getting feedback. (But sometimes when it's anonymous it isn't as helpful.) But, again, thank you for your review! **

**This is bunny F37 on shirebound's ShireBunny page. ^_^**

**Enjoy!**

**Rated T for angst, insanity, depression, and sadfaces.**

The bright sunlight of springtime poured into Frodo's room in the Houses of Healing. It felt too much like being in Imlaris just months ago. But, nonetheless, it comforted him to awake to the sun rather than the dark clouds that endlessly covered the sky of Mordor. The hobbit stretched out his arms and sat up on the bed. He heard the door open slowly, and turned to find Aragorn.

"You are awake? I thought you'd still be sleeping, its just barely after sunrise." The lord said. He came into the room and sat down next to Frodo on the bed. "Would you like to come down for breakfast?"

Frodo nodded. "Of course. Is anyone else awake? I'd imagine not..."

Aragorn smiled, and nodded in response. "No, they haven't moved since their little 'party' last night in the pantry...your cousins and Sam are still snoring in their room down the hall."As Frodo took in a deep breath of the fresh morning air, Aragorn sighed silently to himself.

"Is something wrong, Strider?" Frodo asked, teasingly.

Aragorn shook his head. "No, I'm fine." He got up and opened a small chest at the foot of the bed. He took its contents and spread them out across the bed. "Here are some proper clothes for you, I shall wait for you in the hallway, and then we shall head down to the Hall for breakfast."

Frodo nodded as the ranger left the room. How different Aragorn acted around him, he pondered the reason. He slipped the nightshirt off, and folded neatly into the chest. He took the clothes and put them on. Brown pants, a white buttoned shirt, and a green vest. The earthly colors reminded him of home, as he pulled the trousers up, he walked over to a mirror near the door to button up his shirt. Looking in the mirror, he slowly buttoned up the shirt, and when he reached the top, he would see how different he would look. He recalled first seeing himself while at Rivendell.

_"Mister Frodo, what's wrong?" Sam asked, as he burst into the room after hearing Frodo's cry. He found his master hugging his legs, burrying his face, in front of the mirror. "Mister Frodo?"_

_Frodo looked up, tears streaming down his face. "What has happened to me?" he spoke softly. "Why am I afraid of that thing in the mirror?"_

Frodo finally looked up, and met himself face to face. He gasped, his legs shook, and he fell to his knees. He continued to stare at the face looking at him. It was worse than when he was in Rivendell, but he was so innocent then. The world seemed much bigger, he hadn't gone through so much suffering until the past months.

Finally, he looked at his own eyes. Still deep blue, but something seemed wrong. The rest of his face just seemed pale, worn out, scarred, but his eyes. They appeared no different, but, he knew something had to be lurking beneath the surface. He looked down, took a breath, then looked again. He was right.

They were bigger, like Smeagol's. In his mind, in the mirror, he saw his face still, but even more twisted and aged like that wretched creatures. It hissed at him, then screeched.

It cursed to him, nasty words of how he failed and how so many are now dead or scarred because of his actions. He shut his eyes tightly as tearing flowed freely from his eyelids. As it grew louder in his head, the image grew worse, more gruesome, more despicable. He began to sob louder now.

He heard a voice at the door, that said his name. He stopped sobbing, and just stared at the floor numbly, as the owner of the voice ran next to him. The ranger knelt down, and called his name again. Frodo replied by turning his face toward Aragorn. His tear-stained face was simply emotionless. "Where have I gone now, Aragorn? It seems whenever I look in a mirror anymore, I get lost and can't find myself."


End file.
